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After all, she was the captain of her team. From what I’d heard, this was a normal occurrence. Far from her first time leading a team.
And now I’d announced to the world that I was in a relationship with her. Speaking of that, time to change our status. “You worry too much. I’m fine. Can you log into your social media?” I asked, sliding my phone off the coffee table.
“Uh, yeah, why?” she asked, more than a little confused at my question.
“I’m friending you,” I said, opening the app on my phone. I searched her name and found her instantly. Two more clicks and I’d sent a request to her.
Gigi clicked away at the keyboard and soon I received a notification that she’d accepted. Next, I did something I’d never done before. I changed my status to, ‘In a relationship with Gigi Martin’. My gut twisted at this new territory I’d entered into.
Having pictures on social media and being seen out with someone were one thing. Actually, changing your status to ‘In a relationship’ showed you meant business. Stating to everyone what your true intentions were.
I heard a cute, sudden, inhale from Gigi and it made me grin. She couldn’t hide the surprise on her face and for some reason I thought it was funny.
“Are you sure?” she asked, hesitation in her voice and her expression.
“It’ll look suspicious if we don’t. Right?” I pointed out to her. “You’re still onboard, aren’t you?”
Her eyes met mine and for a brief second, I thought I saw a hint of wavering doubt flash through them. Then she straightened up, looked down at the screen and unceremoniously hit a key.
Almost immediately, I got a verification that she’d accepted. “You and Gigi Martin are in a relationship”, it said on the update. One more thing we had to do. I wasn’t totally sure how she’d react but either way it had to be done.
I sat up and motioned for her to move closer to me. “Come, we need to take a picture.”
She moved over but said rather suspiciously, “We do?”
“Yep. We have to have a picture as a couple. It’s what all my jackass friends do anyway,” I said on a deep breath as I recalled how many of my friends I’d watched fall in and out of relationships over the years.
“Beau, I’m a mess. My hair is crazy and I don’t have makeup on,” she said as my arm went around her. She was trying to push away from me. “Seriously, let me go fix myself up first,” she said, still attempting to squirm out of my grasp.
“First off—you are not a mess. You’re beautiful whether you’ve got a shit ton of makeup on or are all sweaty after practice.” Her eyes and face softened at my words and she stopped trying to move away from me.
“Secondly—well, there is no secondly. You have to know how gorgeous you are, Gigi?” I asked her and a blush made her cheeks turn an alluring pink.
She shook her head and gave in. “You’re quite the sweet talker. Let’s just do this,” she said before laying her head on my shoulder. The alluring floral scent of her hair traveled up my nose and I purposely got closer so I could inhale her. Deeply.
I took a dozen shots and let Gigi choose the best one. Handing my phone back to me, she said, “Add that picture, then I’ll post it after you.” She moved out of my arm and a startling sense of—loss?—overcame me.
Holding Gigi beside me was nice. Even if it was fake. She felt good. Like she belonged there.
Damn, I was in trouble.
